One Hundred Tales
by ayushi
Summary: From fighting the apocalypse to the clichéd coffee shop romance. One hundred tales of TyHil in different AU scenarios.
1. Tale 01

**A/N:**So I'm not sure how many days it'll take me to actually write all the 100 stories but here's to trying.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own either of the characters.

One Hundred Tales

**One**

**(Tyson facing anger management issues)**

Following a routine made him calm, it made him feel secure. Because routines didn't change. They remained intact and same as long as the person was committed to it. And he was committed to his routine. He needed that routine to keep his cool. Because he did terrible things when he lost his cool. Terrible things that he wished to forget. So he followed a routine that made sure he wouldn't snap and break someone's neck every time he got angry. Because no matter how much he tried it, counting backwards never worked for him. By the time he'd reach eight, the monster would already be paving his way out and by the time he pushed down the monster, he'd usually find himself sitting in a pool of his own blood with a broken bone or two.

The people surrounding him would often slip the word therapy into their normal conversations. They thought he needed help. Maybe he did. But he didn't want it. And despite his stubborn attitude he couldn't escape their worry, he couldn't escape the looks of concern that appeared on their faces every time he clenched his fists or gritted his teeth. So he gave up and lied to them. He told them he was seeking help and working on getting better. The former was a lie, the latter wasn't. He was trying to get better but he was doing it by himself. He stayed home one weekend and tried to figure out what calmed him down. And that's when he discovered that the monster stayed down when things were done in a particular order. It stayed down when he followed a routine.

At first it didn't make a big difference. But slowly and slowly he started feeling calm. Slowly and slowly he started learning to keep the monster down. Little things stopped ticking him off and he learned to ignore, he learned what it meant to let go. And it all started with his routine.

And she was a part of that routine. The first few weeks he didn't notice her. But he knew she had been there.

Just like every other morning.

His day started at 4:45 AM.

He woke up, brushed his teeth put on his running clothes and shoes and went running. He would run around the whole town twice. On his first round around the park, the rusty bench would be empty, which is probably why in the first few weeks he didn't pay any attention to his surroundings during his second round. And that he had realised later on, had been a mistake. Because she had been there. And he had missed his chance to see her one more time.

He would be home by 6:15 AM and would go to sleep again, waking up at exactly 7:30 AM. He'd shower, eat his breakfast and skim through the headlines. He'd be on his way to work by 8. Reaching his office at 8:45 AM, fifteen minutes before his boss arrived. He'd sit in his cubicle and keep the social interaction to a minimum. Occasionally he'd take a break and just sit and think about her, feeling the calmness spread through is body as her face floated in and out of his thoughts. He'd be home by 10:00 PM and in his bed by 11.

The first time he saw her, his legs had slowed on their own accord. He was a little taken aback to see her sitting on the bench because he had crossed that bench a while ago and it had been empty at that time. As he moved closer he noticed her hand moving across the journal lying on her lap swiftly. He looked up at her face and almost came to a halt when he realised that she was looking at him. And just for a small moment their eyes met. She smiled slightly and went back to her writing. He quickened his pace and continued his run. Her ruby eyes imprinted in his brain. All he could think of that day was her smile and if he would get to see her again.

And he did.

Every day after that she would be there on the bench, journal in lap and a pen in her right hand moving swiftly across the paper. Her unruly brown hair would always be tied back in a messy bun with a few strands covering her eyes. Some days she wouldn't bother changing out of her pyjamas and some days she'd be all dressed up. On rare occasions the journal would be replaced by a novel. But each and every time just for a moment their eyes would meet and she'd smile at him.

And that smile became a part of his routine. So when after two months, on a fine Wednesday morning he was met with an empty bench, his legs came to an abrupt halt. He stood there unable to understand the emptiness. Because now, the routine was broken. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, trying to calm himself. He started walking away slowly, counting backwards in his head as he tried to pick up his pace. It was when he reached five that he noticed a white object on the bench. He backed up a little bit and studied the bench closely. It was a sheet of paper, weighed down by a small rock. He picked up the rock and carelessly tossed it away. He eyed the lone page and then picked it up, bringing it closer to his face to inspect the contents of the sheet.

He felt his cheeks grow warm. It was a sketch of him running. The page probably belonged to the leather journal, he thought. As his eyes scanned the page, he noticed two words written in a neat handwriting on the bottom of the page.

_Turn over. _

So he turned over the page and his eyes widened in surprise. Written in that same neat handwriting was a number.

She had broken his routine.

And he had never felt calmer.

-x-

**A/N:** Don't forget to leave a review! (And I promise there will be dialogues in the next one)


	2. Tale 02

**A/N: **So this kinda based in the Edo period. Samurai's and shoguns and stuff so I've used their Japanese names (Takao and Hiromi). Thanks to **chibi-yachiru-chan** and ** .linda** for reviewing. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: You have no idea how much I wish I owned Beyblade.

**Two **

**(Edo Period) **

_He was the man she was supposed to kill._

_He was the man she was in love with._

It had been a cold winter night. Her mother told her to wait in the corner of the street as she went about her business. Being an obedient child, Hiromi did as she was told. Her mother smiled warmly at her and told her that she will be back in a few minutes. And even after two whole days, there was no sign of the older lady. But Hiromi was an obedient child, so she did as she was told. She waited in the corner, wrapping the thin cloak around her body as tightly as possible, fishing out food from the dumpster. Sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, she waited quietly.

After all she was an obedient child.

Even after she was captured by slave traders and sold off to some shogun, she still visited that street corner, hoping to find her dear mother waiting for her with that same smile on her face. Her master often told her that her mother had abandoned her. But Hiromi refused to believe that. Her mother had smiled at her. She never would've done such a cruel thing if she was planning to leave the little girl behind. And that's why Hiromi went back to that street. Even though she knew that her mother was dead, she still went back.

After all she was an obedient child.

She had been six years old when she was sold off, and ten years later she was still loyal to her master. He had taught her everything she knew. And to show her gratitude, she had decided to put her life on the line for him.

The first few years at her master's palace like house had been rough on her. Every time she tried to sneak into the lessons held for the master's son, she was beaten and sent back to the kitchen. The sensei always told her that women belonged in the kitchen. That their only duty was to cook and clean. Even after the Master decided that she was smarter than any of his sons and that she needed to be educated, the sensei would always yell the same thing again and again, until it was stuck in her head.

But there were times when despite what her mind told her, she disobeyed.

She wanted to prove to the master that she was worth the money he spent on her. She wanted to prove to the sensei that she was just as good at swordsmanship as the other boys, if not better. She wanted to prove to the world that she could be something, the she was not insignificant.

And so she joined the shogun's private security guard.

At the age of sixteen, Hiromi was fighting wars. She was the one leading their army. She was the one making the decisions, deciding their strategies and she was the one who was winning. The more she fought the more she realized that she was not a part if the clan. No matter how much the master praised her, no matter how much he claimed that she was his daughter, she wasn't. She wasn't one of them, and she never would. She was made to lead them and not join them and that's why when she first saw him, her hand hesitated. She lowered her katana and she hesitated. For the first time in years, she did not want to strike, she did not want to kill.

She did not want to obey.

The ten men that were supposed to be her back up were easily slayed with one slash. This was the first time she had ever seen such a beautiful katana. To Hiromi, the katana has always been a tool which made her much stronger. It was something she used to kill people, not something she treasured. If it broke, she'll just get a new one. She didn't think it important to place any sentimental value in a weapon. But as she helplessly stared at the beautiful blade pointed towards her, she could feel something bubbling inside her chest. She could feel the need to hold that blade. That blade which was shining brightly in the moonlight, the dragon that was engraved on the blade clearly visible. But once the effect of the dragon wore of she noticed that the word looked battered and slightly shipped from the edges. The engraved dragon was the only thing making that sword worth something.

The dragon and it's wielder of course.

"I surrender."

She couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth because she knew she didn't stand a chance against him. And the last thing she wanted was to die while she was still a slave. So she dropped her katana and put her hands in the air. The smirk that replaced the determination on his face almost made her pick up her blade again but her will to stay alive made sure that she stood still.

He lowered his blade slightly, still not believing her words. Truth be told, Hiromi couldn't believe them either. Her orders had been to find the rumoured samurai that was taking down armies single-handedly and make sure that he disappeared off the face of earth. She had found him alright. And the rumours had been true. She could picture that blade taking down their clan's strongest squads in just a few strikes. She didn't want to be on the receiving end of that strike. So she surrendered.

His deep brown eyes summed her up and his smirk turned into a cheeky grin as he noticed the metal band on her left ankle, "Changing sides?"

She remained silent.

He sheathed his mesmerising blade and continued to grin at her, "Well I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to." He slightly pulled up his hakama and Hiromi gasped in surprise. There it was on his left ankle, the same metal band.

When she looked up at him again, he was smiling softly, "I know who you work for. I could use a spy."

And that smile was all it took for her to turn her back on her master and join forces with the stranger.

And again, she disobeyed.

She worked with him over the course of a few years to take down all the big people of their kingdom. She helped him save hundreds and hundreds of slaves. All the while, still working for her master.

During those years, she constantly felt like she was being watched. At first she thought that the master knew about her betrayal and was just waiting for her to slip and catch her red-handed. But the more assassinations they pulled off, the more she felt like her master was helpless and unaware. She took this opportunity to make herself more comfortable, gaining access to some very useful information. But the feeling of being watched was ever present.

And in those four years, she fell in love with the man who had saved her from loneliness. At the beginning, he barely trusted her and most of their meetings ended up with her storming off in the opposite direction because he refused to tell her anything about himself. For at least about a year, she didn't even know his name. All she knew about him was the way he fought. And that was all it took for her to fall for him. Every time he unsheathed his katana her heart would start beating faster than normal. A couple of times he had to save her because she was too busy admiring him. He looked at her with a questioning look and she would just blush and look away.

It was the day he told her his name when she finally found the courage to look him in the eyes and tell him that she loved him. She never waited for him to reply, thinking that he won't say it back. But he did say it back. He shouted it out for the world to hear. Which earned them a few odd stares from the scarcely populated street and she didn't understand whether she should get mad at him for doing something so stupid or just embrace him. So she did both, his playful laugh ringing in her ears as she sobbed on his shoulder. She didn't understand why the tears were falling because she had never felt so happy before. She had never felt so loved before.

Takao, meaning respectful hero. He was her hero.

But despite the protection and warmth that radiated off of Takao whenever she was with him, the feeling of being watched was still there. Whenever she spent the night with Takao, she would lie awake in bed wondering whether she should share her concern with him. But it would always end up with her falling into a deep slumber and not remembering what she had decided on in the morning.

Two days before their final attack, she spontaneously decided to tell him.

"You feel like you're being watched?" He asked, his warm brown eyes filling with concern.

She nodded.

"By whom?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. I just know that there is someone or _something_ following me around."

His eyes flashed for a moment, but the emotion vanished before she could recognize it. Anger, worry, pain? She couldn't tell.

"Don't worry about it. It's all going to be over soon anyways."

She took his advice and simply pushed that feeling aside concentrating solely on their final quest.

Everything went according to their plan. The master had given her permission to enter his chambers at any time if it was an emergency. And well, this was an emergency. The rumoured samurai was taking down their forces, heading for the master. Trusting Hiromi, he allowed her to lead him towards safety. Instead, she led him towards his death.

The master's body was lying at her feet, covered in cuts and bruises, unmoving and lifeless. They had succeeded but something just wasn't right. Because someone was watching her, just this time it wasn't from the behind.

The dragon's eyes were glittering, staring right at her. She felt confused. Why was Takao standing in front of her with his beautiful blade? Why did it feel like that the dragon on the katana wasn't just a crafty engraving? Why did it feel like that this was the end?

"This is the end." Takao whispered, tears streaming down his face.

"What do you…"She trailed off.

It happened very quickly. One moment, Takao was standing right in front of her and the next his sword had gone through her stomach. She watched the blood ooze out from her abdomen, colouring her hands red as she touched the injury.

"I'm sorry." She could hear him sob, "I'm sorry, I had no choice."

She fell to the ground, her vision blurring.

"It made me do it. I have to do what it says. I'm sorry."

His voice was fading, as if he was standing far away and not kneeling down next to her. As she slowly closed her eyes, all she saw was the empty street corner.

_He was the man she had fallen in love with._

_He was the man who killed her._

-x-

**A/N:** So that was fun. Or not. I think I just cried a lot. So leave a review and make me happy!


	3. Tale 03

**A/N:**This is pretty shirt after such a long wait but I hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own either of the characters or the song.

**Three**

_Songfic #1_

Curse – Imagine Dragons

_She barely knew your name._

He shut his eyes tightly, struggling to keep the sunlight hitting the room out of his eyes. The pounding in his head was making it impossible for him to even lift his head. He had no idea which washed up hotel's room was he currently lying in, but somebody had obviously pushed the curtains aside, probably in an attempt to wake him up. But all the sunlight did was bother him more and increase his headache. After a few deep breaths and two failed attempts, Tyson managed to sit up straight, still unable to open his eyes.

_Somebody_ had obviously pushed the curtains aside.

His eyes shot open immediately. He scanned the room and as he had suspected, it was a simple looking room. Not too fancy, not too shabby. Just a simple, empty room. He sighed as he ran a hand through his messy, midnight blue hair. He was half expecting to see her sitting on the chair beside the window with the book perched open on her lap. And then his eyes widened in surprise and he leapt out of the bed and made his way towards the chair. A decision he regretted a few minutes later as he stumbled a little due to the sudden dizziness that took him over the moment his feet touched the ground. Nevertheless, he reached the chair and picked up the book lying on it.

'_Cause I can't sit oh I can't talk_

_I gotta leave this town and run to you_

Tyson chose a small diner in the corner of the street right across the hotel for his breakfast. Though it was more like lunch now, he thought as he glanced at his phone. The bell chimed as he pushed open the door and entered the fairly empty diner. He sighed with relief, the last thing he wanted right now was to run into someone he knew. The chances of that happening were very low anyways since he was on the other side of the town. Or so he thought. Truth be told, Tyson had no idea where he was. His car keys were in his pocket but he couldn't find his car anywhere near the hotel. And when he couldn't recognize the neighbourhood at all, he came to the conclusion that he was quite far from home.

He smiled at the waitress as he placed his order. He decided he'd ask her later if she had seen his black 1967 Chevy Impala anywhere around here. That car was more precious to him than his own life. He tried to wait patiently for his food to arrive, but after a few minutes, he felt slightly restless and hurriedly took out his phone again and went through the contact list. No new contacts. He couldn't believe himself. He remembered everything about that girl. He remembered her smile, her soft skin and the dark brown locks falling down her shoulder, the taste of her lips and how they felt pressed against his own, her voice when she whispered in his ear, her fingers running through his hair and the way the light was reflected in her eyes. Her crimson eyes. He had never seen eye like hers before. He remembered everything but her name.

Before Tyson could let out a frustrated cry, the food arrived. As he stuffed his face with meat, he went over the happenings of the previous night once more. Disregarding the fact that he really didn't remember most of it. He had been fired, so he went out to drink. He saw her sitting in a corner with the book in her hand. She looked up at him and smiled. And after that everything was just completely_ blank_. How much did he even drink? He had no idea. But one thing he was sure of, he would definitely find that girl.

_Curse these nights that speak your name_

_I gotta leave this town and come to you_

Two weeks, four days and twenty two minutes later, Tyson still hadn't found her. In fact he had no leads. And the only good thing that happened to him in this time span was that he got his car back. Other than that, every time he closed his eyes, she would be there, right in front of him but still too far from his reach. Every time he saw a flash curly brown hair, he would chase that person only to be disappointed again and again. He had searched every nook and corner of this town, _where could she have gone? _

Tyson walked down the street unaware of the looks he was receiving from the people surrounding him. He hadn't slept a wink since that day and he was pretty sure he looked like a mess. But he searched for her anyways, ignoring the glances, his eyes were open solely for the sake of finding her. She had done something to him and only she could fix it.

_Break (oh) this (oh) curse (oh)_

_ha ha ha_

_Break (oh) this (oh) curse (oh)_

And then it hit him. The _book_! He found it lying in the backseat of the car. He hastily picked it up, stopping only to admire the hardbound red cover of the book. He frowned when he noticed that there was no title printed on the front cover, even the spine of the book was empty. He shrugged off this minor detail, and opened the book to its first page assuming to find her name written there. Instead his eyes met emptiness. His hands began to tremble as he slowly turned the page, only to find another blank page. Slowly and slowly he went through all the pages of that book to find one blank page after another. There wasn't even the tiniest spot of ink in that book. It was completely _blank_. The book fell out of his hands and he held on to the door of his car for support when his knees buckled. His head was starting to feel heavy with only just one question running through his mind. _Was she real?_

_She barely knew your name._

-x-

**A/N:**Did anyone get the Dean Winchester reference? Even if you didn't, a review will surely make me happy.


	4. Tale 04

**Four**

The sand felt soft under her feet as she takes small steps towards the vast ocean. The clear blue water is swaying silently, inviting her into the depth. Her feet falter and her breath stops. Her eyes remain fixed on the water that could swallow her up and push her down, away from the surface, the sun…

And then he is there, holding her hand, guiding her forward. He laughs as the wave washes over their feet and she shivers and pulls him close. In a moment of contemplation, she looks into his brown eyes.

_Warmth. Love. Faith. _

Without a second thought she jumps into the water. And the fear in her heart is replaced by freedom.

-x-

**A/N**: This is so meaningless. I can't even.


End file.
